Why? I grew up in Ireland in the 1950s and 60s in a soccer household. We were raised on stories of the great Manchester United and Blackpool FC, and to us these places in England had a magical quality as we associated them with soccer. My dad worked for the national rail company in Ireland and we got free travel on the boats, so from a very young age we were taken to Blackpool for family holidays. I completely fell in love with the place - the Tower, the beaches and the Pleasurebeach. Best of all, I loved standing in Bloomfield Road, watching the tangerine shirts of Blackpool.

The best thing? There were things you could get in England that you couldn't in Ireland: Wall's ice-cream and Spangles - hard fruit drops that were individually wrapped - the height of sophistication. Blackpool had seafood stalls on the front, too.

My ideal day: We'd take ourselves off to a little park. It had a playground but also a bowling green, and I was fascinated by the adults playing there. Then we'd go to the seafront for a swim, followed by chips and the Pleasurebeach to squander our pocket money. As I got older, I would spend the evenings there seeing some of the great names of the era - such as Lulu, the Walker Brothers and the Small Faces.

My advice: I find it is best to be a bit forgiving when revisiting childhood haunts. Years later, I took my own family to Blackpool and it was a disaster. Just like Blackpool football team, it had slipped down a couple of divisions over the years.